


another starry night like this

by rainbowysl



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Flashbacks, Injury, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:32:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowysl/pseuds/rainbowysl
Summary: Memories have been happening for years, so shouldn’t his have happened too? Maybe not all souls were split. Maybe Sidney was born into the universe alone, destined to wander each lifetime looking for something that doesn’t exist.





	another starry night like this

Sidney remembers learning about Plato’s story of soulmates in school as a teenager. About how humans had originally possessed four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. These humans were strong, much stronger than humans today, and the gods became jealous. Fearful that the humans would have the strength to overthrow them, the gods split the humans in half. Miserable and longing, these two parts of the soul search for each other, in order to be whole again.  
Sidney had found the idea romantic when he was younger—to find that one person that was your perfect other half sounded so wonderful. But it was just a myth. Until the memories started.

They seemed to be triggered by events involving both halves. When two soulmates were triggered by their shared event, they began to remember all of the past lives in which they’d met. Some remembered everything at once, some got short spurts of memories over a period of months.

Doctors and scientists alike couldn’t explain it. Some suggested mass hysteria, others hallucinations caused by gas leaks or bad water. Conspiracy theorists accused world governments of mind control.

But the occurrences of memories were too wide spread to be hysteria or hallucinations. They were happening all over the world, and even involving people who had never met before. Scientists began running tests on willing subjects that had experienced memories of their past lives and found that the brains of those people had actually been physically altered by the event. Scientists still couldn’t explain exactly why it was happening, but they agreed, overall, that the memories that people saw were real.

Some people saw many memories and had met their soulmates in all or most of their past lives, while others only saw a few. A small group described a deep feeling of nostalgia, but no memories. Experts concluded that this life was the first time these souls had met.

Sidney, however, has experienced none of these. People had been Remembering for years, with new stories every week about newly discovered soulmates. Some newspapers had even developed a section dedicated to it, right next to the wedding announcements. Not that Sidney would know, not like he rips open the Gazette every day just to read that section.  
He’s nearing forty, though, retirement just over the horizon. There are grey streaks in the hair at his temples and shooting through curls that he (over)tames with the gel that Taylor tries to throw out every time she comes to visit. Soon, hockey won’t be around to distract him from his lack of Memories and his big, empty house. He’s seen many of his teammates go through it, and heard stories from guys around the league. He just figures that if it was meant to happen for him, it would have happened already.

\---

“There is no timeline, Sid,” Flower says, nudging him gently. “Remember that old couple from Mexico a couple years ago? They were like eighty.”

He and Flower are walking up the sidewalk to Tanger’s front door. Flower and Tanger had retired already, bowing out of hockey because of career ending injuries and to make sure they got to watch their kids grow up. Sidney is glad to still have Geno and Phil, but they’ve both announced their retirement at the end of next season. Sidney knows his own retirement is not far behind.

They’re greeted by Horny’s booming laugh as they let themselves in. Vero comes over, having driven separately with the kids so Flower could stay later with the rest of the guys, and kisses Flower in greeting, and then kisses Sidney’s cheek as well. Flower smiles at her like she’s hung the sun.

They’d been one of the couples to get it right, even without the Memories, as well as some of the earliest to see them. Flower refuses to share them with Sidney, or with anyone for that matter. Sidney gets it. It seems like a very intimate thing to share and he wouldn’t want anyone else knowing his. The way Flower looks at Vero now, though—Sidney had thought they couldn’t look any more in love before—the Memories must have been very special.

Flower disappears with Vero and Sidney takes the opportunity to help himself to a beer and take in the party. He loves get togethers like this, loves seeing all the guys that have retired or left, everyone coming back together as often as they can despite the distance. Dumo and his wife are over in the corner of the room, their new baby being cooed and awed over by wives and players alike. Jake and his girlfriend chat and laugh with Conor and his wife.

He’s suddenly aware of a presence at his side. He looks up to see Geno, who grins and knocks their shoulders together gently. There’s more grey mingling with the black in Geno’s hair than in Sidney’s, and more there now than the last time they saw each other. Geno keeps it shorter now than he used to, finally surrendering to his disappearing hairline. Sidney bumps Geno back and they take in the rest of the party together. Even as everything else changes around Sidney, his ability to communicate wordlessly with Geno has never left him.

“Come, I get you drink,” Geno says over the buzz of conversation and the music that someone has started up.

“Oh, I already—” Sidney looks down at his beer to see that he’s already finished it. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed as he stood there, alone and with Geno. “Okay, uh, sure.”

He follows Geno into the mostly empty kitchen. Catherine and Tanger are there, keeping drinks and food supplied for their guests and they both greet Sidney and Geno.

“No kids?” Geno asks, hugging Catherine, and looking slightly disappointed.

“No, Alex is at camp and Victoria is at a friend’s,” Tanger says.

“We’ll have two teenagers before we know it. We deserve one last good night, just the two of us.” Catherine smiles softly at Tanger, who returns the look. Sidney feels the sudden need to avert his eyes. Tanger gives Catherine a soft kiss, and Sidney does avert his eyes.

Geno puts a drink in Sidney’s hand that tastes suspiciously like Geno has just poured him a full glass of vodka and steers him back toward the living room. Someone has set up a karaoke machine and Geno, looking delighted, runs off to join in. Sidney sips at his drink and rolls his eyes affectionately, watching Geno fight with Horny over who gets to delight the crowd with their off-key singing first.

He’s still watching them, and Flower, who has joined in, when Vero settles at his side. She smiles lovingly at her husband and then turns it on Sidney.

“You look happy, Sidney.” There’s no tilt to it, no question underneath, just observation. “Happier than I’ve seen you in a while.”

He smiles back at her. “I love having these parties. Getting to see everyone. It’s good.”

“I hope you can keep this feeling.” She looks at him and there’s something behind her eyes that Sidney can’t quite decode. Like there’s something she wants to say, but isn’t sure if he’s ready to hear it. “You deserve happiness. However and whenever you get it. Just remember that.”

He puts his arm around her and faces the karaoke fiasco again so she can’t see him getting emotional. “Thanks, V.”

She leans into his shoulder and they watch the chaos of chirping and arguing hockey men across the room. 

\---

“What’s it like?” Sidney asks. He and Flower are sitting on Tanger’s back porch. Crickets chirp and lightning bugs float around them, while the fire that Kris had started in the fire pit earlier in the night dies down in front of them.

“Remembering?” Flower asks.

“Yeah.” Sid takes a pull of his beer. “Like do you remember it all? Everything that happened in your other lives?”

“I think it depends on the people. I think most people just see that version of the event, like the one that set it off. Kris said it happened right after they had Victoria. Climbed into bed one night and saw all the past lives they had where they got into bed and said they loved each other.” Flower grabs Sidney’s beer and takes a drink. “He swears he was Alexander the Great in one of them, but I don’t believe him.”

They both laugh at that.

“So you only remember that one thing? Whatever shared experience you and Vero had?”

Flower nods. “I’ve heard it’s pretty rare to remember anything past that. The mark of an incredibly strong soul bond.”

They’re both quiet after that, taking in the peaceful night as Sidney thinks about what Flower said. He knows Flower told him it’s just a matter of time, but he just can’t find it in himself to believe it. Memories have been happening for years, so shouldn’t his have happened too? Maybe not all souls were split. Maybe Sidney was born into the universe alone, destined to wander each lifetime looking for something that doesn’t exist.

Before Sidney’s brain can come up with any more bleak thoughts, the backdoor slides open and the rest of the remaining guys file out. Tanger heads over to the wood pile to start building the fire back up, and Geno trails out behind him, clutching an old guitar. Sidney and Flower join him sitting around the fire pit and Geno grins at Sidney’s questioning expression.

“Found it in Tanger’s attic,” he says. “Is mine now.”

“It absolutely is not,” Tanger retorts from the wood pile. Geno says something back in Russian that sounds very rude and he and Tanger start arguing animatedly about the true ownership of the guitar. Sid smiles and looks up at the starry night sky, letting the easy banter and chirping wash over him.

“Okay, well, if you’re stealing that guitar from me, you’ll have to play something.” Tanger crosses his arms smugly, like he has full confidence that Geno won’t be able to do it.

Geno smiles to himself and takes up the guitar. He softly strums a few chords and his face relaxes as he begins to hum quietly to himself. It sounds familiar to Sidney, which is odd because he’s sure he’s never heard it before. Geno looks up from the strings, still playing, and catches Sidney’s eye. He smiles again, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling. It feels private, like this smile is just for Sidney.

And then everything goes black.  

\---

The world swims back into view, but when Sidney focuses, he finds he’s no longer sitting by Tanger’s firepit. Instead, he’s on the ground, covered in mud, a mean looking man in fatigues standing over him and yelling. The man is shouting his name, to get a move on, but that’s not his name and Sidney is suddenly, disorientingly aware that he is not in control of this body, he’s just along for the ride.

His head turns and he makes eye contact with another boy crawling through the mud next to him. The boy is tall and gangly, with kind eyes and tufts of hair poking out from underneath his helmet. He grins at Sidney, tongue sticking out between his teeth, and winks.

Sidney’s vision goes black again and this time when he comes back he’s in a bunkbed, staring up at the underside of the bed above him. A familiar head suddenly pokes around the mattress. The boy stretches his hand out toward Sidney.

“I’m Eugene,” he says.

“Patrick,” Sidney hears himself say. The boy smiles, warm and soft, and squeezes Sidney’s hand.

His vision fades out again and Sidney feels a variety of sensations in quick succession: the jostling of a truck down an uneven road; the sound of canons and gunfire and screaming in the distance; Sidney’s hands clenching around what is unmistakably a gun (World War I era if Sidney remembers his history right); a knee nudged against his own that he somehow knows belongs to Eugene. He’s terrified, they both are, but they’re together and they’ll survive this.

The image in front of him shifts suddenly and Sidney is leaning back on his hands, staring up at a clear, starry sky. It’s quiet, unusually so, and it takes him a moment to realize that it’s because he can’t hear gunfire anymore. Instead, there’s the crackling of a fire and the soft notes of a guitar. Sidney looks down from the sky to the source of the guitar, clutched in Eugene’s hands. Eugene is humming to himself, his long fingers dancing skillfully across the strings. He looks up at Sidney and smiles, gently and privately, just for Sid.

The realization hits Sidney so hard he feels dizzy. These are memories. Memories, plural, which means Eugene must be—  
The image—memory, Sidney corrects himself—shifts again and they’re walking down a quiet abandoned street, just him and Eugene. Their hands brush together, not quite tangling together, but just enough that they both know it’s not accidental. Eugene knocks his shoulder into Sidney’s. Sidney does it back and they laugh softly, stumbling along the street together.

And then Eugene is pulling him down an alley, pushing him up against a wall.

“Tell me if this is okay.” Eugene says. He’s so close that Sidney can smell the hint of beer on his breath, the cologne that he’d liberally applied before they’d apparently gone out.

Sidney feels himself swallow around a sudden lump in his throat and then nod. “It’s okay.”

Eugene looks left and then right and then they’re kissing, desperate and deep, Eugene’s hands tangled in Sidney’s hair.

He grasps at Eugene’s back, hands clutching so hard at his shirt that he’s sure it’s going to rip so everyone will know what they’ve been up to and he’s surprised to find he doesn’t care. He just wants to stay here forever, wrapped up in Eugene’s arms, pressed against this wall, far away from the guns and screams of the front. They pull back, their noses rubbing together, and they both open their eyes. Eugene huffs out a laugh and Sidney grins. He can see his vision start to fade and grasps at the memory, doesn’t want to leave this one, but it slips away.

He comes to in the dirt and mud again, can feel it smeared all over his face. He’s on his knees and his hands are wet and pressing down on a body beneath him and Sidney knows who it is before he looks down, a terrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He looks down, his hands pressing down on Eugene’s chest, applying as much pressure as he can, but he can see the blood pooling around them, can see how pale Eugene is already becoming.

“No,” he chokes out. “No, please, I just found you.”

Eugene reaches up, hand shaking and weak, and cups Sidney’s cheek. His voice comes out in an ugly, wet rattle.

“I’ll find you again. I swear I will.” He coughs harshly and there’s blood on his lips. “We’ll be together again. I’ll find you.”

He puts his hand over Sidney’s, squeezes once, just like he did the first time they met. Sidney clutches it as hard as he can with his own. He feels it go limp and watches the light leave Eugene’s eyes.

“No.” He grips Eugene’s hand tighter and lays his forehead against Eugene’s unmoving chest. He can feel tears streaming down his face, but does nothing to wipe them away.

Then there’s a flash, blinding pain, and the world goes dark. 

\---

The present comes back into view painfully and abruptly. Tanger and Flower are chattering away on either side of him, oblivious that anything unusual has happened, but Geno is staring at him, his hands stilled on the strings of the guitar. Sidney realizes that no time has passed, that everything he just saw happened in a fraction of a second.

Finally, Flower catches on to how quiet it’s suddenly become and looks over at Sidney.

“Sid, are you okay?”

Sidney doesn’t answer him. He can’t look away from Geno.

“You. That was you, you’re Eugene. You saw all of that too.” It’s not a question. He knows, instinctively, that that was Geno, that he just watched all the memories they’d had together before—Sidney can’t bring himself to finish that thought.

Geno seems speechless, but he nods. His knuckles are white where he’s gripping the guitar and Sidney’s surprised it hasn’t splintered yet.

“Holy shit,” Flower whispers. He stands up and grabs Tanger by the wrist, dragging him up from the fire pit. “Tanger I need your help with something inside right now.”

“What? There’s nothing insi-”

“Shut up,” Flower hisses, pulling him along.

Sidney distantly hears Tanger’s “Ohhhhh” before the door latches behind them.

Sidney and Geno are quiet for a long time after that, like neither of them really knows what to say. After a while, Geno finally puts the guitar aside and stands up to join Sidney on the other side of the fire pit. Their legs touch, thigh to ankle, on the small bench that Tanger has carved out of a log.

“What you see?” Geno asks.

“Everything. The war. Us around the fire and walking down the street and in the alley. Holding you while you…while you died.”

Geno hesitates and then slides his hand into Sidney’s, tangling their fingers together. He squeezes once.

“I thought…” Sid starts. He swallows around the lump forming in his throat. “I thought it would never happen for me. I thought I was just…”

“Alone.”

Sidney nods.

“Sid.” Geno cups his face with the hand not holding onto Sidney’s. “You never alone. You have Flower, Tanger, Phil, all the boys. Catherine and Vero too. Have me. Even not soulmates, you have me.”

There are tears prickling at Sidney’s eyes now and he rubs at them with the heel of his hand. Geno wipes a stray one that had escaped down his cheek away with his thumb. And then, slowly, giving Sidney a chance to back away, Geno leans in and presses their lips together.

There’s no fairytale moment, no fireworks, nothing grand and exciting with swelling music. Just Geno’s soft and slightly chapped lips on his and a hand holding him close.

They stay like that for a while, trading soft kisses, keeping their hands knotted together. They finally pull back and Sidney rests his head on Geno’s shoulder. When he looks up, he can see Tanger and Flower standing behind the sliding glass door. Tanger catches his eye, pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, and hands it to Flower. Flower throws his head back and Sidney can almost hear his laugh through the door. Sidney grins and buries his face in Geno’s neck, blushing hard and breathing in the familiar smell. He feels Geno turn his head and kiss the top of Sidney’s head through his curls.

The stars overhead are bright and Sidney swears they’re shining just for him and Geno.

**Author's Note:**

> one night i couldn't sleep so i listened to Fernando on repeat, got this plot bunny about war and soulmates, and then it developed a mind of its own


End file.
